Before The Beginning Of The End
by Ariannette
Summary: What Happened Before BOBN


**Info:** So, this little plot bunny has been running around in my head for over a year. It was only until recently that I started writing "The Funeral" that it really bugged me even more. I started thinking, well how am I going to write the funeral, which is ultimately the ending, without knowing the beginning? Without knowing what happened _before _BoBN? So I sat down yesterday and wrote the first part. It's not going to be some huge novel or anything. Its just a little insight into what happened :) Also what sparked me into writing it, was the three songs in the playlist before. (yes i know, two are from the New Moon Soundtrack- but they're great songs- its an awesome soundtrack, and they just fit perfectly.) Also, big thanks to Ellie for Betaing it!!! ( the playlist is on my lj)

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**Before The Beginning Of The End**

It started mostly as a habit, the whole saving people crap. They'd slip out of the house after dinner, and he would fly to her window to sneak her out. In some ways you could say it was romantic, well it would have been to anyone but them.

Sometimes it was the cat in the tree, or the boy who had drowned, or countless burglaries. Claire would make sure to have a syringe if her blood was needed- as gross as it sounded, it did help. Sometimes it was the difference between life and death.

They did it all, really. It would end with breakfast at IHOP after midnight to celebrate their heroic acts, and always share his omelet. Claire would always get the pancake platter, and finish before Peter was even half way through his own food.

He'd make fun of her big appetite, saying one day it would catch up with her, even though they both knew that that would never happen.

After that she'd stay quiet, and those were the moments that Peter hated the most. When she didn't say anything, because she would start thinking.

Her mind visualized him and started hyperventilating at thoughts of him, at her ridiculous worship of him. The worst part of it all was that he felt the same thing for her.

It was so wrong, _so_ incredibly inappropriate, but he couldn't help it, and so he understood.

There were small moments where he almost slipped and told her that she was the most beautiful creature that had ever existed. He wanted badly to share his feelings with her, but he couldn't- they had a perfect world, a routine, a family. He couldn't jeopardize any of that for her.

Months passed though, and it began getting worse. Her mind started spluttering the word love around. Did he himself feel that for her? Sure, there was infatuation, incredible attraction, but he'd never allowed himself to even think the word love and her in the same sentence, at least not in that sense.

He started looking back, thinking of all the things they'd done together. Would he had done the same with Nathan's sons? Sneaked out with them in the middle of the night to start doing heroic acts around the world, without ever telling anyone? The answer was obvious: no.

His mind began thinking back to that day in Odessa, as hers often did. To when she had accidentally knocked into him. She replayed their encounter over like a broken record, always stopping to look into his eyes. She would sigh in her head, and say cheesy things, and he'd always be unable to suppress a tiny smirk.

One night, after they had saved a family whose car had been turned over by a semi, he laid in bed, picturing her eyes this time. He sighed, and knew he had to say something. Claire wanted to as well, he could sense it every time she looked at him now. There was always that hesitance in her voice where she would look at him for a few seconds, then laugh, shake her head, and look away.

It was that night he decided he had to tell her. He would, the next day, he'd do it bright and early, before anything else. He would tell her at breakfast, before their Saturday afternoon of saving people.

….

The next day came, bringing butterflies to his stomach that he hadn't felt since he'd been a teenager. It made him give a shaky laugh, and he felt them again when she walked out of her room and down the stairs to where he was standing casually against the wall.

It didn't help that her thoughts mirrored his own. She reprimanded herself for the flutter of butterflies that exploded throughout her, that were euphoric to her.

They were both quiet as they left the house, like they were both too nervous to even speak.

Peter opened the door as Claire walked out, and they got into the taxi that was waiting for them. He tried to sit as far away from her as he possibly could. He didn't want to, but he felt like he needed the distance from her, to prevent anything from happening. If she stayed too close, he feared his hands would act on their own accord and intertwine his fingers with hers.

He called out the address to the taxi driver in a quick mumble and looked out the window, biting his lip. He would start this day differently. It was morning, so they'd get breakfast first. Sure it was out of their rigorous routine, but this was a special occasion. Today he'd let go of his cowardice and perhaps profess his affection.

Claire turned to him, bewildered about what they were doing, with her inquisitive eyes and flirtatious smile. She made it on purpose, he'd read her mind countless times enough to see. She wanted his reaction, wanted that crooked grin that he did back when he smiled. Her heart would flutter with it, she'd scream in her head.

So he smiled back at her, not being able to help his blushing. She did that to him, not caring about the repercussions of falling in love with her uncle. Sure the word stumbled around in the back of her mind, he could read it. But the fact of the matter was, she didn't care- it was so minimal to her, so _insignificant_, to what her heart told her to follow.

It scared Peter. It wasn't that he didn't like it, but he was afraid that her heart was influencing him into believing it would be ok, that it was ok, that _they _could be ok, and the tough thing about following his heart was that it could take him to places it wasn't supposed to go.

Places that were scary as they were exciting and as dangerous, as they were alluring. Sometimes his heart couldn't take him to places that lead to happy ending, it would take him to the reality of it all- to remind him of what he was doing. That wasn't even the difficult part; the hard part was that if he followed it, he would leave normality; he'd go into the unknown and, once he was there, he wouldn't be able to come back.

He looked away from her for a second, to assess his thoughts, to make his final decision. It was her or everything else, he'd never have both. He could have the world, or he could have love. He could do right or wrong, be selfish, or selfless. He loved his family, things had settled, were slowly going back to normal, but they could end in a flash.

Uneasiness filled his chest, twisting uncomfortably. It sounded so easy, confessing his love and knowing it would immediately be returned. She was so incredibly sure of her love for him, so confident that it was more important than anything else.

The taxi cab stopped and they hurried to get inside the warmth of the restaurant, making sure to sit in their regular booth and order their usual meal. They were both quiet then, taking sips of their water, and trying desperately not to look too nervous.

_I should tell her now_, he thought. He could, he could do it, tell her what it was that he felt for her, right there and then in their booth.

His breathing heightened a bit, it became unsteady, and he looked into her eyes. They mirrored his intensity and nervousness, knowing that something epic could be very near.

He opened his mouth, very slightly, letting a breath out, letting her name roll off his tongue sweetly, "Claire…"

Her focus was breathtaking to him. Her complete worship was there, everything that she had ever felt showed in her eyes, and for a moment, it scared him that she could begin to feel close to what he felt for her.

His hand moved across the table and took her hand. It was the moment, it was time for him to be honest and confess it. Everything around him was muted, the sound of his hard breathing was the only thing he could hear. His heart pounded violently against his chest in fear. It wasn't that he was afraid of her rejection; it was the fear of acceptance, the fear that they would throw everything else away that meant anything at all to them.

"I-" his speech was short lived when something suddenly exploded across the street from where they were and went up in flames.

They looked at each other instantly, and stood up to start running towards it. He looked at her as they ran, and gave a tiny smirk. _Later_, he thought, _I'll tell her later, I promise. _


End file.
